


A Tough Act To Follow

by A_nonnie_mouse



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: And Inej Will Not Be Outdone, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Presents, F/M, Fluff, I Love These Weirdos, Kaz Is Really Good At Gifts, Kissing, Love Confessions, One Shot, Romantic Fluff, Surprises, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27527389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_nonnie_mouse/pseuds/A_nonnie_mouse
Summary: He’d surprised her on her last birthday – and surprised her good. Inej wore a crooked grin on her lips in the dark when she thought of it, as she held lock picks in her teeth. That sly, clever bastard.She’d get him this time.A lovely anonymous on Tumblr asked for a little something about Kaz and Inej celebrating a birthday, and I got kinda carried away.
Relationships: Kaz Brekker & Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa
Comments: 28
Kudos: 194





	A Tough Act To Follow

Inej knew how to pick the lock on Kaz’s window. She didn’t need to know – he always left it unlocked when he knew she was in town. But it was a matter of pride, really. Kaz Brekker could bar himself in with unbreakable locks, and Inej could still find a way in.

And now that knowledge was finally proving useful. Inej crouched on the windowsill in the dark, listening at the glass. The room in The Slat just beyond was pitch black and silent. Dirtyhands was out stalking the streets, unaware that the Wraith was back, and here Inej could finally have her vengeance.

He’d surprised her on her last birthday – and surprised her _good._ Inej wore a crooked grin on her lips in the dark when she thought of it, as she held lock picks in her teeth. That sly, clever bastard.

She’d get him this time.

When she’d discovered which pick could snake through the window, she artfully jostled the lock until the tumblers gave way with a click. And then Inej shifted the pack slung over her shoulders and slipped into the dark attic of The Slat.

It was always a little surreal, that first step back into The Slat. It was like stepping through a time warp, returning a fixed moment in time. Kaz never changed anything, not his makeshift desk, not his rickety old bed in the corner. Inej used to bother him about it. Didn’t he at least want his own house? Wasn’t he tired of stairs? What was he doing with all of that kruge he wanted to die under, anyway?

No, Always, and There are plans, were always Kaz’s infuriating and vague answers.

Inej couldn’t help grinning to herself again at the memory. _That sly, clever bastard._

Well, she could make plans, too.

But first, she had a stage to set. After all, that’s what Kaz had done, and Inej always made a point to learn from the best.

It had been almost six months ago. Her birthday had actually come and gone while she’d been at sea, and so she’d thought nothing of it when her feet were once again on Ketterdam’s streets. She wasn’t expecting anything, really – which, come to think of it, had been her first misstep. Kaz was a work in progress in most relational matters, but gift-giving was not one of them. For better or for worse, Kaz possessed an innate ability to read people – their wants, their fears, their sins. And when he wasn’t using this gift for nightmarish purposes, he was actually quite decent at presents. She should have known he’d have something up his sleeves.

“I have something to show you,” he’d told her. Off-handedly, even, like he’d only just realized it. They were draining the last of their drinks at the Crow Club, waving to Jesper and Wylan as the couple had started their trudge home.

Inej had turned back to Kaz with a raised eyebrow.

“Rumor has it those are the last words your debtors hear in dark alleys,” she teased. And Kaz laughed – a free, easy sound she was still getting used to hearing. The last few years had seen a silent, dark shadow slowly lifting from his shoulders – small changes only the people closest to him could have noticed. His eyes seemed clearer. He was freer with his jokes. There was some color in his cheeks when he smiled.

Like now.

“You can flatter me later,” Kaz grinned, picking up the crow’s head of his cane. He was gesturing for her to follow. So, she slid from her chair to trail behind him as they wove through the gambling tables of the dark club to the overcast streets outside.

It was a warm night, the streets bustling with tourists. Kaz offered her his arm as they strolled along the canal beneath the orange glow of the gas street lamps, his cane tapping against cobblestones. Restaurants and clubs were churning out enticing aromas to lure in hungry patrons – mouth-watering roasted meats, warm, yeasty breads, cinnamon and sugar pastries.

And Inej glanced up Kaz, only a little distracted by the tempting smells in the air. She was still curious about what he could possibly be scheming, even if she was now also a little hungry.

When they came to a well-traveled intersection of cobblestone streets, Inej noticed a brand new door on an old building she’d passed a thousand times. The lights in the windows were lit, though it seemed that the inside was practically empty.

It was there that Kaz stopped them and began fishing through his pockets. Inej heard the jangle of keys.

“What is this?” she asked, in vain, because Kaz only smirked in reply. Inej straightened. That was about as delighted as Kaz would allow himself to get, so whatever this was, it was big. 

He fitted a thick skeleton key into the lock, and, with a groan on its hinges, the door opened. Inej followed him inside.

“What do you think?” Kaz’s voice echoed in the space. Inej didn’t know how to answer. What did she think? What was she even looking at?

It was a large, mostly empty space, save for a giant, old hearth and one round table by the lighted window, set with a checkered tablecloth and plates and silver. The pine wood floors were dusty, the old chandelier covered in cobwebs. At the far end of the room stood a bar, and beyond that, presumably a kitchen, where another light source flickered and glowed.

“Is it another club?” Inej ventured, as she turned in circles, taking it in. “Did you buy another club?” This was a stupid guessing game.

“Not exactly.” Kaz pocketed the keys again, his gloved hands fidgeting a moment in his pocket. Was he nervous?

“Good evening, Mr. Brekker. Captain Ghafa.”

Inej nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the new voice. A chef in a white coat appeared from the orange-lit kitchens, two exquisitely plated trays of food in hand. Before she could ask any more questions, Kaz was beside her, a hand at the small of her back, gesturing for the table.

“Let’s have a seat,” he said, not so much a suggestion as another step in a plan.

So, she did. And she unfurled a napkin into her lap as Kaz did the same. The chef set plates of food in front of them while Kaz moved to uncork a bottle of champagne that waited on the table in a silver basin.

“ _What_ is going on?” Inej finally pressed once they were alone again. The chef had returned to the kitchen.

A loud pop exploded into the silence of the mostly empty room as Kaz opened the champagne bottle.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are very difficult to buy gifts for?” he asked, beginning to fill a champagne flute in his gloved hand.

Inej shook her head. This intrigue was _killing_ her.

“No one,” she said, accepting the champagne, her fingertips brushing cold leather.

“Then let me be the first to lodge the complaint,” Kaz replied, filling his own glass. “It would be challenging enough if you were only as rich as a queen, but on top of that, you seem to genuinely want nothing at all. Other than justice and care for those who’ve been bought and sold – and that is a very tall order, I must point out.”

Sitting back in her chair with her champagne glass, Inej crossed one leg over the other, cocking her head as she still tried to puzzle out the mystery.

“I like chocolate,” she pointed out with a shrug. At that, Kaz paused with his champagne flute mid-drink to glare at her.

“Shit,” he mumbled into the flute, and set the glass down with a sigh. “That would have been a lot less expensive.”

Inej blurted out a laugh at that, and Kaz couldn’t contain a toothy grin.

“What are you saying?” Inej asked with a chuckle. “Is this a gift? You _did_ buy this place.”

Kaz drew in a long breath. He _was_ nervous. Inej set down her glass, leaning in in fascination.

“I did buy it,” he confirmed. “It’s a new project.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobble over his collar. “One on which I hope we can work together.”

Inej blinked.

“That depends,” she said. “Tell me the project.”

Kaz shifted, leaning forward, elbows on the table.

“It was inspired by you, actually,” he said. Inej couldn’t be sure but it looked like the color was rising in his cheeks in the candlelight. “These people that you’re freeing, if they end up back in Ketterdam, they have nothing. Or, like you were, they’re beholden debts that they should never have had in the first place. What they need – what _you_ needed – was some place safe to work, to save money, a roof over their heads while they figure out their way forward. Without it, they end up right back where they started. So…”

Kaz picked up his champagne flute again, giving a gesture with it to the room.

“I know it needs work,” he said. “But the bones are good. The location’s perfect – lots of foot traffic and tourism. I was thinking it could be a restaurant. Or a bakery.” He looked to her then, and was he seeing how floored, _utterly riveted_ she was? “Whatever you crave when you’re here in Ketterdam. Chef Lukas is on the books now, and he can make anything at all. The rest of the staff will come from you. The people you bring in, the ones who need a fresh start. We own the two floors above it as well, and they have rooms for lodging. What—what are you thinking?” His brow pinched together, trying to read her silence and the hand clapped over her mouth. “Is it too much?”

Too much? It was _so much_. Inej’s eyes stung with the threat of tears, that’s how much it was. But too much? It wasn’t possible to have too much of this perfection.

Inej had never been sure if she had a favorite flower or a favorite chocolate for a boy to discover, to know that he knew her, as her father had once advised. Sometimes she thought that maybe her heart was too big – that she loved too many things at once, and could she trust that a boy really knew her when her smile came so easily now?

But Kaz did. Now she knew. He absolutely did. He’d found the right combination to her big, bleeding heart.

He loved her.

And all she could do was burble a sort of euphoric giggle behind her hand, her eyes watering.

“You are going to lose so much money,” she gasped, her brow furrowing. “There’s nothing remotely profitable about this.”

Kaz just smirked with a shrug.

“No one turns a profit on gifts,” he said. “So, you like it?”

“ _Saints_ , Kaz, I love it,” Inej breathed, a traitorous tear escaping her eye. It was everything. Everything she’d needed ten years ago. Everything these streets needed now. For so many like her, this would mean the difference between hope and despair. Life and death.

_That scheming, wonderful bastard._

She stretched her hand across the table, reaching to seize one of Kaz’s gloved hands. He smiled as he curled her fingertips into his.

“Can I kiss you?” she begged, softly, her eyes wet with tears. She felt him stiffen even as he ran the pad of his gloved thumb across her knuckles. And he thought a moment. And gave a little nod.

“I think that would be all right,” he replied, quietly.

They both stood, she perhaps a little more eager than he. It was always difficult the first few days Inej returned from sea. Kaz’s mind might always be a tangled web of past and present, sometimes confusing one with the other. Even after all these years, touching her always seemed easier once they’d had some time to break the ice all over again.

When she stepped to him, Kaz ran his hands down her arms, almost reverent, and he bent his forehead to hers. She pulled him to her gently, running her fingers up the lapels of his suit coat, over the hard planes of his chest.

“I can’t believe you’d be willing to lose so much kruge on this,” she whispered, looking up at his closed eyes, the dark lashes splayed against his cheekbones.

“For you,” he murmured, and he lifted his coffee-black gaze. His hands slipped to the curve of her waist, pulling her closer. “Surely you know this by now.”

“Tell me anyway.”

And Kaz lifted her chin, soft leather against her skin.

“I would empty every account for you,” he said. “And if that weren’t enough, I’d rob every bank, break every vault in this damn city. It’s never a loss when it’s for you.”

And he bent his head – Inej held so still. Let him be in control of when their skin touched. Her fingers unconsciously twisted in his lapels, silently begging for his lips.

When he met the slant of her mouth, his soft lips brushed against hers gently, barely a kiss at first. Their noses bumped. Inej held her breath, her eyes falling shut of their own accord. Selfishly praying for more.

And more he had. This time, Kaz bent his head the other direction, apparently emboldened, kissing her fully, breathing in deeply. Inej lifted onto her toes, meeting the kiss with the kind of eagerness she usually reserved for her third or fourth day on land. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and a shiver of warm sensation spread all the way down to the soles of her feet when he pressed his hands into the small of her back. It was dizzying and delicious, being flush with his body, wrapping her fingers into the soft, dark hair at the nape of his neck.

It was the sort of kiss, Inej realized, that should come at the end of an evening. It was not meant for the start, not with the way they were. How was she supposed to untangle herself now? Now -- when his breathing was growing hot and ragged against her lips. When desire was fluttering through her core, wrapping itself like vines through her limbs as she pulled him to her again and again.

The creaking of the old front door hinges, that’s how.

Kaz and Inej broke apart as Inej gasped in surprise.

“Are you open?” came a tourist’s voice in Ravkan. A couple of figures poked their heads in the door that Kaz had evidently forgotten to lock behind them.

“Clearly we’re not,” Kaz barked back at them in Ravkan, flushed and irritated.

Some muttered Ravkan apologies followed as the door shut once again.

And Inej stifled a laugh into Kaz’s jacket. Hopefully he saw the humor in it, too. The evening didn’t need Dirtyhands making an appearance.

His hands were roaming her back, holding her close, and when she looked up he was smiling again. Though, for now at least, the heated spell between them had broken. For better or for worse, Inej wasn’t sure anymore.

“Happy birthday, Inej,” he said, when he’d cooled, and they returned to their table for the meal that their new chef had prepared.

So, you see, Inej had a tough act to follow.

She didn’t expect to be able to make him cry, although, admittedly, she would not have minded it if she managed it. But she was going to surprise him – surprise him _good._

She was setting up his room in the Slat now, lying in wait for her victim. She’d brought rose petals. She’d lit candles. She’d wrapped herself in a black silken robe, unraveling her hair from its braid, leaving it loose and cascading down her back.

He, too, might not have a favorite flower or a favorite sweet. But she knew him.

And she loved him.

And now he would know.

Nerves were starting to prickle her skin while she waited, propped up on his desk, her legs crossed in front of her. It would be a pretty picture when he opened the door – his girl in silk surrounded by candlelight. But what came next was the real trick.

Her heart rammed against her ribs when she heard his keys in the lock, jostling the doorknob. He’d notice the candlelight first, she knew.

And he did. Before he even saw her, he paused in the doorway before crossing the threshold, the door swinging wide.

The rattle of gunmetal was Inej’s first clue that this might not be going as planned.

Kaz was fishing for the revolver in his pocket.

“ _Saints,_ it’s just me!” Inej cried out, and Kaz dropped the gun with a thud. And strode into the room, breathing hard. Slamming the door behind him.

“Are you insane?” he exclaimed, whirling to face her. “I could have shot you!”

And that’s when the full sight finally started to sink in. His eyes were growing wider and wider, flitting around, taking it all in – the candlelight, the rose petals, Inej’s bare legs glimmering in the glow. The shining silk around her slim body.

Inej didn’t think human beings were capable of short-circuiting, but that’s clearly what was happening to Kaz. He couldn’t decide where to look, if he was even allowed to look, or if he was even in the right room to begin with.

“Too much?” She hopped off the desk, suddenly understanding why he’d been fretting that day in their restaurant.

“No no no no,” Kaz was saying, shaking his head, obviously still short-circuiting. “Give me a moment. I just need a moment.”

He was breathing hard, still in the throes of the shock, and Inej was starting to wonder if surprises were a good idea at all. She stretched out a hand, pressing a palm over his racing heart, and after a beat, he pressed his hand over hers, holding her there. And drew in a deep breath, mustering up a smile.

“Hello,” he greeted at last.

“Hi,” she said back with a smile.

“You’re here.” He was still in disbelief. His eyes drifted a moment. “And you’re wearing _that._ ”

“It’s revenge,” Inej clarified, with an apologetic shrug. “For surprising me last time. And for making me cry in front of Chef Lukas.”

“How is this equivalent to making you cry in front of Chef Lukas?”

“This isn’t the full surprise. Do you want the full surprise?”

“Yes.”

And, with a coy smirk, Inej withdrew her hand from his chest and began to unwrap the robe.

At that, Kaz pulled back.

“Wait _wait_.” He looked absolutely mortified. Inej wanted to cackle. _Sweet, sweet revenge._ She kept unwrapping.

“You do not have to do this,” Kaz was insisting. “You do know you don’t have to do this? There were no expectations, no strings attached with the last gift. I--” And he stopped short. Frowned. Cocked his head. Confused.

Inej was fully clothed beneath the robe.

And hiding a small parcel beneath her vest.

And she was smirking like the dirty little con artist she’d learned from.

“What is this?” Kaz asked, warily, accepting the parcel she pulled from her clothes.

“Open it,” was the only explanation she offered.

Kaz gave her a sidelong look as he slowly began to slide his long fingers into the seams of the parcel.

“That was a dirty trick,” he told her, pulling at the paper.

“You liked that? There’s more where that came from.”

“You’ll pay for that next time,” and he shot her a shark’s grin as he let the paper fall to the ground, looking at what was now in his hands.

Stacks of paper. Some with numbers. Some looked like letters. Some looked official – all looked clearly stolen.

“A side project,” Inej explained to him, crossing her arms in front of herself. “For the days when you’re tired of being a good man.”

“What is all this?” His discerning frown tickled Inej right down to her toes. Befuddling him might become her new favorite hobby.

She was trying, and failing, to hide a pleased grin.

“You’re looking at Pekka Rollins’ bank accounts. His stock activity. Secret correspondence with at least one mistress. The Stadwatch he’s bribing. The politicians he’s funding. All sorts of birthday surprises like that.”

Kaz was all but gaping when he looked up from the papers at her.

“How did you do this?” he breathed.

“I have my ways,” Inej said, with a toss of her hair.

Kaz was grinning like a fool.

“You know me too well,” he said, softly, still browsing the file Inej had spent the better part of six months assembling. His crow-black hair fell softly against his cheekbone, his features warm in the candlelight.

And here it was. Her moment. The words burned in her chest, demanding to be said.

“I love you,” she told him, like an explanation. As if it were obvious.

Kaz’s gaze snapped up from the papers then, losing all interest. He looked like he might drop them right there, just like he’d fumbled his revolver.

“I love you,” he said back. As if he’d been saying it for years, just not so simply.

Inej smiled wide, and Kaz did drop the papers then. And crossed the distance between them in a single step.

Inej had planned on telling him happy birthday at this point – that was what he had done. That was what people did. But as he lifted her back onto the desk, sliding kisses across her lips, burying his fingers into her loose hair… well, she forgot the scheme altogether.

She’d let the rest of the evening be a surprise.

**Author's Note:**

> I like you. Let's hang out on [tumblr](https://anonniemousefics.tumblr.com) and squeal about this fandom some more.


End file.
